We accept the love we think we deserve
by xworththefight
Summary: "Fuckin' hell woman, you sure know how to sweep a man off his feet. Could've asked. Damn." She found herself looking into the amused eyes of none other than Daryl Dixon. Rated M for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

We accept the love we think we deserve.

Author's Note: So this is the first attempt at a walking dead fanfic.  
But seeing as how I ship this two together so fucking much, I can't seem to help myself.  
I have no idea how this is going to turn out or if maybe I should just stick to TVD.  
Anywho, just let me know.  
Comment and let me know what you guys think!  
-xworththefight

There once was a time when Carol would have never given a second thought to the idea that she would have ever ended up like her mother. That wasn't saying that her mother was a bad woman, not in the aspect that so many would woman that raised her was as a great a woman as any, never letting Carol do without, even if it meant doing without herself. Sure after a while the bruises shown through the cover-up that the older woman would use and sure the young eyes that belonged to Carol would often see the hits as she heard the taunts from the monster whom she once thought of as her loving father.

After a while it wasn't only Carol who noticed but neighbors and family members who voiced their concerns.

Though everyone who would step forward would quickly be shot down by the words of denial that seemed to flow so easily from the older woman's lips.

"I tripped. I am as clumsy as always,"were a few of the over-used excuses that Carol had remembered her mother using on several occasions.

She remembered growing up and hating the fact that her mother never made an attempt to stand up for herself. Hah, if only she hadn't followed her mothers steps the moment she met Ed. Sure he hadn't been that way when they first met, but she had allowed it and because of that she was no better that her mother.

That thought quickly disappeared as the scraping sound of a prison door brought Carol from her thoughts.

The first thing that her eyes focused on was the dark splotches of fabric that seemed to fall to ruins onto the floor, the next being the chunks of flesh that were missing from the walkers arms and legs. Next came the putrid odor of decaying corpses, followed by the moans and groans of the walking dead. She didn't take another moment to think about how they had gotten inside the prison, only that she had to protect their home, and that meant thinking on her feet.

Reaching down, Carol snatched the knife from her belt, bolting forward. It wasn't until she was mere inches from the first walker that she sank her knife to the hilt in it's head. As she yanked the knife back, she took in the other walkers, noting that there were two others following the first. Taking a deep breath she once again rushed forward, not really paying any attention to anything other than the walking corpses in front of her.

Five minutes had turned into ten, and then twenty.

She had backed up against the wall, allowing herself to slide to the floor, facing the now motionless bodies.

How had they gotten in, and why hadn't anyone noticed. Why had she been so distracted from memories of the past. Events that shouldn't even matter to her, as the world had ended as she had known it then.

It wasn't until she heard the shuffling of feet coming towards the cell block that she realized that she had been holding her breath. Who was it, friend or foe? Without another glance, she slipped inside the nearest cell, holding her knife to her chest as she waited for whoever it was to come into view. As the footsteps drew near she sprung into action, knocking the assailant onto the ground, raising the knife into the air, inches from the persons throat.

She didn't see the messy mop of dark brown hair, nor did she hear the clatter of the heavy weapon hit the ground. Nothing seemed to register with her, not until she heard grunt and then the southern voice yell out.

"Fuckin' hell woman, you sure know how to sweep a man off his feet. Could've asked. Damn."

She found herself looking into the amused eyes of none other than Daryl Dixon. Resident redneck, part-time zombie killer, part-time nanny.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: I'm so glad that people seem to be enjoying this story. I wasn't sure at first, but I'm glad. Anywho, who's ready for the mid-season finale? I AM. Though I am praying that there will be some great Caryl moments somehow.

-xworththefight

She didn't see the messy mop of dark brown hair, nor did she hear the clatter of the heavy weapon hit the ground. Nothing seemed to register with her, not until she heard grunt and then the southern voice yell out.

"Fuckin' hell woman, you sure know how to sweep a man off his feet. Could've asked. Damn."

She found herself looking into the amused eyes of none other than Daryl Dixon. Resident redneck, part-time zombie killer, part-time nanny.

They must have been quite the sight, Carol's small frame sitting atop the hunter's lap, still grasping the knife against his throat. Finally after what seemed like a lifetime, Carol rolled off Daryl, muttering apology after apology before hanging her head in embarrassment.

"The 'ell happened?" Daryl's voice pulled her attention back up to the corpses that lay only mere feet away.

Carol could only shrug as she shook her head, "I was hoping that you could tell me, one second everything was fine and then the next they were here. I did what I had to, is everyone alright?" Carol spoke out softly.

Without another word, she reached down, offering the man whom she'd grown attached to, her hand. As his fingers clasped hers she tugged him to his feet before once again apologizing.

"Listen here, woman. You did 'he right thing. You must've though' I was a walker and you acted fast. Actin' fast will save you're life, ya know?" Daryl said before bending down and retrieving the knife that had been held to his throat only moments before, handing it to the woman in front of him.

"You alright, though?" He questioned as he ran his eyes over her body, searching for any injuries. Chuckling softly she raised a brow, "nine lives, remember pookie?"

She felt Daryl as he pushed against her shoulder playfully before he nodded and smirked, "better not need them nine lives, ya hear."

After awhile they fell back into their regular routine they would occasionally throw a few words back and forth, but both enjoyed the silence that would settle. It wasn't until it was time for Daryl's watch that this came to an end, but Carol smiled to herself as she watched him walk away. Slowly she made her way back to her cell before letting herself fall onto the cot.

As her eyes closed she was immediately reminded of the reason that she had been so distracted earlier and found herself slipping back into the memories of her past.

The first time Ed had ever hit her had been one night when there hadn't been much going on and they were at home. She had just finished making the supper for the night when he had came stumbling home, the whiskey strong on his breath. Carol had never like Ed drinking but she couldn't tell what to do, that wasn't her place. He was a grown man.

She could still remember the anger that laced his voice as he found his way into the kitchen demanding to know why the hell the food hadn't been finished before he had gotten there.

Carol had felt a burst of anger surge through her and couldn't hold her tongue as she commented on the fact that he wasn't acting like nothing but a mean drunk. The pain that radiated from her face as he backhanded her to the floor had not only shocked her, but had stunned her to no end.

After that incident the hits came easier and more frequent, the first few were the hardest she guessed because he actually would apologize after and would swear that it wouldn't happen again, and silly Carol would believe him. Then as the abuse continued the apologies stopped and were replaced with ridicules and humiliation. It was though she was only a mirror of her mother because she should have been prepared, should have known that it would never get better.

The wailing of a baby jerked Carol from the horrors of her past and she felt the familiar sting of tears in her eyes. But they didn't fall, she wouldn't cry over Ed, and she wouldn't cry over her father either. Neither of them were worth a tear that she'd shed, besides now wasn't the time, there was no point.

Ed was dead, her father was dead and so the demons should be gone, it shouldn't bother her anymore, especially with how things were now.

Author's Note: I apologize that it's so short, I'm trying to decide where exactly I want to go with this and it's still a work in progress. I want to incorporate the killing of Karen and David and whatnot but I haven't exactly figured that whole thing out yet. Anywho, till next time.

-xworththewait

COMMENT ARE ALWAYS WELCOME. (:


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